days," he said to his
employer, old John Pike.

Pike was an old resident of Alton and had known all the Clarks. He
grunted as if he had heard that song before. "That's what they used to
say of her mother, Addie Clark," he remarked, remembering Addie's
superior air towards his son.

"Well," his manager continued, "I see that trust company's got its signs
up all over the Field."

"'T ain't the first time there's been signs there," Pike retorted,
eyeing a succulent cigar he had succeeded in extracting from an inner
pocket, "nor the last either, I expect!"

"It looks as if they meant business this time."

"They can't get no title," Pike averred, for he banked with the River
National, which was now quite bearish on Clark's Field. After a pause
the old liveryman asked with a broad smile,--"Why don't you go in for
the heiress, Jim?"

(Mr. Lovejoy was accounted "gay," a man to please the ladies.)

"Me! I never thought of it--she's nothing but a girl. The old one
pleased me better--she was a smart woman!"

"The girl's got all the property, ain't she?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, then, you get two bites from the same cherry."

The manager made no advances to the girl, however, and for that we must
consider Adelle herself as chiefly responsible. For, as a woman, or
rather the hope of a woman, she was uninteresting,--still a pale,
passive, commonplace girl. What womanhood she might expect was slow in
coming to her. Even with the halo of the Clark inheritance she could
arouse slight amorous interest in any man. And thus Adelle's
insignificance again saved her--shall we say?--from the mean fate of
becoming the prey of this "roomer."

"No man will ever take the trouble to marry that girl," Mr. Love joy
remarked to his employer, "unless she gets her fortune in hard cash." In
which prophecy the widower was wrong.

IX

In a few days Mr. Gardiner called at the Church Street house on behalf
of the trust company, to express to its ward its sympathy with her in
her bereavement and to find out what her situation was, and her needs
for the future. Adelle, sitting opposite the portly, bald-headed bank
officer in the little front room, did not feel especially excited. She
could not imagine what this visit might mean to her. She answered all
his questions in a low, colorless voice, promptly enough and
intelligently enough. Yes, her aunt was her only relative so far as she
knew. No, she had made no plans--she would like to